Ut Exsisto Liber
by music4ruth
Summary: What would happen if seven-year-old Harry meets a snake who mysteriously wandered into his cupboard, who tells him about the wizarding world? What if Harry practised magic, and used it against Muggles? What if he went dark? Full summary inside.
1. A Bit Young

**Title: **Ut Exsisto Liber

**Summary: **What happens when seven-year-old Harry meets a snake who mysteriously wandered into his cupboard, and who tells him about the wizarding world? What if Harry practised magic, and used it against Muggles? Could he still turn into the Gryffindor Golden Boy Dumbledore hoped to mould? What if, instead, he went Dark? Includes Dark!Harry, Powerful!Harry, Independent!Harry, Slytherin!Harry, and Manipulative!Dumbledore.

**Rating: **T

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Harry Potter in any way, shape, or form. Although I wouldn't mind owning a certain Dark Lord... or a certain blonde-haired Death Eater...

**A/N: **I've been meaning to submit this for a long time now. Sorry for the delay.

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Chapter 1

A Bit Young

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"Boy! Get up now!" a voice yelled, shaking his cupboard door, and unlocking it from the outside.

Harry instantaneously recognized the voice, even in his half-asleep state; it could only belong to his Uncle Vernon. With this piece of information at hand, nothing else needed to prompt him to quickly scurry out of bed. He almost considered picking up his glasses, but decided against it, seeing as they didn't improve his vision. If anything, they made it worse.

Harry stood as far from his uncle as possible in the limited space of his dreary cupboard, idly wondering just why his uncle was the one to wake him up this morning – usually it was his aunt. Not that it really mattered, since both of them always glared at him in contempt. However, today, his uncle's anger was considerably more.

"You worthless little freak!" Vernon began with a loud voice, which the neighbours – to his fortune – could not hear all the way in Harry's cupboard. He stood in the doorway of the cupboard, not quite wanting to enter the place Harry inhabited.

Harry took note of every detail; the way his uncle's voice had slurred, the slight sway to his stance, the purple tint to his face, the slightly protruding eyes, even the saliva emitting from his mouth. He could tell that his uncle was enraged, but at this point, his "sorry"s would not cut it. Actually, with Vernon, "sorry"s were not accepted. It was a beating, and locked his cupboard without food.

All of these observations did Harry little good; he already knew what was to come. Not only that, but it spaced him out, further provoking his drunken uncle.

Vernon walked inside the cupboard, past the doorway, which barely allowed him entry. He then backhanded Harry, forcefully knocking him onto the wall only a few inches behind him.

"Boy, you weren't listening!" Feeling as though his roars were doing no good, Vernon lowered his voice and put on a menacing tone. "I should have shipped you to some orphanage the day I got you! Actually, you should have died in that accident with your freakish parents!" Vernon hiccuped, now looming over the frightened seven-year-old. "Isn't that right, boy?"

Harry was used to his uncle screaming nonsense about his parents. He dismissed them all as lies. When had he ever been told the truth by his uncle? The boy was more angry for being struck. His uncle had no right to hit him. _I don't want to get hit like this for the rest of my life! _Harry inwardly promised himself, not for the first time, _One day, I won't let it happen._

With his usual blank face, he answered in a rehearsed manner, "Yes, Uncle Vernon." Anything less would have landed him the belt for being insolent, and he avoided getting hurt as much as he could. At this point, Harry could only hope that his uncle's mood would pass and he could go about his daily chores.

"Do as I say, and finish before Petunia gets home! Understood, boy?" Uncle Vernon spat, his face mere inches away from Harry's.

"Yes, Uncle Vernon," Harry recited, his eyes, darkening with emotion, boring into his uncle's hate-filled eyes. His stare let up, and he stood stiffly, waiting for his uncle to leave him be.

Vernon stalked away. At the doorway he turned and sent one last spiteful glare at the green-eyed child. Upon leaving, he roughly slammed the door to Harry's cupboard, enclosing it with the familiar darkness.

Harry immediately wiped the spit from his face, then sent an irritated look in the direction where his uncle had left. It was days like these when he wished his uncle had followed his first instinct: shipping him off to some orphanage. _If he sent me to an orphanage, that would be like a birthday gift to me, _Harry thought. But it wasn't as though he had ever received any birthday gifts so far, and he doubted he would receive any next week, when he turned eight.

_Enough wishing, _he reprimanded himself. He hadn't even heard what he was supposed to do, how could he have time for such things? And another beating was _not _what he would like. Another beating meant another time when he would be helpless. It meant another time when he would be at the mercy of his uncle.

Harry walked back to the tiny mattress on which he slept, the light from the slits on the cupboard door briefly patterning his face. He sat down on the edge of the mattress, elbow on his knee, chin resting on the heel of his hand. Harry was trying to remember what his uncle had said, yet at the same time, dark thoughts of vengeance flickered in his mind.

At that moment, a snake slithered through a hole in the darkest corner of the cupboard that Harry had not noticed. It crept slowly and quietly, its body making low sliding noises against the smooth floor.

The snake had seen what had happened through the hole in the wall. It briefly looked up at the human remaining in the room

"_What a loud human, __that one was!_" the snake hissed in distaste at the memory of Vernon. It sent a look that could only be described as a glare towards where Vernon had recently departed. Its reaction to the man was similar to what Harry's had been.

The child's back straightened immediately. His eyes wandered to the source of the voice. Green met red. Harry's dark emerald eyes suddenly focused more. The snake had spoken.

Then Harry relaxed his tense position and sneered. Snakes could not speak. It was impossible. After one last glance at the snake, he returned to his train of thought.

Hadn't his uncle mentioned something about a birthday? Maybe it was his aunt Petunia's birthday... But that still didn't help him! Just what was he meant to do before she returned? Prepare a big birthday breakfast for her, and bake a cake for later? Or was he supposed to stay out of her sight the whole day? Harry most likely had to do both, the latter being something he was getting good at.

For the six, almost seven, years he had lived with the Dursleys, Harry had been unwelcome, and they'd made that clear. He didn't know why, and refused to think it was his fault. Honestly! Since the time that Harry had learned to walk, they had enforced the rule that he had to "earn his keep". Meaning he cooked their meals to perfection, tended the garden, mowed the lawn, vacuumed the house, and did various other chores Petunia put him up to. All of that in order to receive the scraps of food the family hadn't eaten. Harry had been getting quite good at the chores – he knew they thought so too! - but no, it was never enough. When he had realized this, he quit trying so desperately to please them.

His relatives constantly reminded him that they didn't want "a useless freak" like him, and that no one would ever want him. Harry knew that there was some truth to their words – of course not the part about no one ever wanting him; he was special, and the Dursleys had to be jealous! But the truth was in the "freak" part, which he was sure they confused with special.

Harry knew he was special. A few years ago, after Dudley had broken his glasses, his aunt had given him tape, all the while threatening that he would not be getting new glasses. Harry hadn't needed the tape. He had concentrated on how mad he was at Dudley, and how Dudley didn't even get punished! And he had ruefully remembered how his glasses had looked before they were broken. Like magic, it was fixed! Aunt Petunia had obviously been jealous – she had probably never done that before! - so she had sent him to his cupboard without supper. Since then, odd things had happened around him, always earning him a punishment from his relatives.

He had been told that his parents had been freakish too – to his delight – but they'd been drunks who got themselves killed in a car accident. So his relatives had been landed with him. All in all, to the Dursleys, he was only stealing food out of their "Dudders'" mouth.

A freak didn't deserve a bedroom, Uncle Vernon had told him, so he didn't live in his cousin's spare bedroom, which was used for Dudley's junk: old toys that he had begged his parents to to buy, and the likes, now collecting dust. Instead, Harry was confined to the cold, dark cupboard under the stairs. Other than the hand-me-downs from his cousin Dudley – which were much too large for him – he had very few possessions. So, outside of his cupboard, there was nothing to prove that he lived there. That is, except the always freshly mown grass, weed-free yarn, and nicely tended rosebushes.

Harry was still thinking, looking distracted. He most likely had to make a special birthday breakfast for his aunt, and he was assuming she wasn't home. So that meant he had to hurry.

He was idly turning his glasses around in his hands, which, somewhere along the way, he had picked up off the floor. Harry knew that the glasses, although repaired by him, were not good. They weren't prescription, rather, they were something his aunt had bought from the convenience store. Aunt Petunia had bought them only after several complaints from his teacher about his bad eyesight. Sure enough, she had come home with the cheapest glasses she'd managed to find. Typical Petunia.

Harry stood up to stretch his legs. Whilst he was deep in thought, he failed to notice that he'd nearly stepped on a snake, one that had seemingly appeared from nowhere.

"_Don't step on me, stupid human child!_" the snake hissed angrily at the boy, shooting him a look of indignation.

Harry snapped out of his thoughts, slightly startled, and his eyes pierced into the snake's own. "_So you _can_ talk_," he said in an amused tone. _This must be another special ability_, he thought to himself.

The snake raised its head and peered up at the small boy. "_You speak?_" it asked with honest curiosity.

"_Yes,__humans have this wonderful thing called speech," _Harry drawled. "_I should be asking you that question, in fact."_

"_Of course us snakes speak!"_the snake sneered, both offended and surprised by the manner in which the child spoke to him. "_We have always been able to! Most humans just can not understand us_," the snake explained to the child, slithering towards him, while flickering its tongue in and out. It inched closer and closer to the boy, eventually pausing in front of him, continuing to flicker its tongue in and out.

"_Most,_" Harry repeated. "_I'm an exception_," he stated easily, his confidence growing that he was special.

Harry was more special than all of those cruel people outside his cupboard's walls. Cruel people he was supposed to call aunt, uncle, and cousin. People who beat him, locked him in his cupboard, and sent him to his cupboard without supper. And people at school, who blatantly ignored him, and stayed away from him. Who didn't try to befriend him, stood by while he was getting bullied. People who watched it all, who believed his aunt and uncle's lies. Harry couldn't forget this last one; those cruel people who left him here to suffer. He was more special.

"_It is a rare ability for wizards to speak our language. I have h__eard there were only a few Speakers in existence_," the snake informed the boy, lying on the same spot on the floor, tongue flickering in and out of its mouth.

"_A wizard," _Harry mused, finally having a term for his specialness. That was what he was. And what he did was... magic.

Harry then frowned in realization. Wizards. Plural. So he wasn't completely special, since there were others like him. Speakers, the snake had also said. Plural. No matter, he brushed it off; he would prove himself. He would show them all, all the cruel people, all the wizards too, just how good he was.

"_This is a language?" _The child quirked an eyebrow. He was sure he was speaking plain English.

Harry then crouched down to get a better look at the snake. Apparently, it was a light brown colour, with scales and a sort of pattern extending across its body. The snake probably was from the garden and had somehow wandered inside.

"_Young one, you are speaking the language of the snake. __Wizards call this Parseltongue_," the snake informed him, its red eyes staring into his green. "_Not many of the wand-carriers, wizards, can speak to us."_

Harry smirked. He was special indeed. His eyes were unwavering as he made it a point to not break the snake's gaze. "_How does one get this... ability?" _

"_Speakers of Parseltongue are all descendants of Salazar Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts Four." _The child once more raised an eyebrow, with a look that pressed the snake to elaborate.

"_Salazar Slytherin was your ancestor; a founder of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He and three others – Godric Gryffindor, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Helga Hufflepuff – created a school a thousand years ago for children ages eleven to seventeen to receive magical education."_

"_Really..." _Harry remarked, taking it in.

He was a wizard, soon to be attending a school of Witchcraft and Wizardry, with others of his kind. Harry felt an unfamiliar sense of belonging course through him. Others of his kind. That was a first.

His lips pulled into a slight smirk. The school must be for wizards only. Meaning: Dudley and his cronies would not be there, and he would have a chance. No, not _a _chance. Without them, he would have several chances. A chance to make friends – something Harry had given up on. He had deemed them unimportant, if he could make it through school without them. Harry could also have a chance to show his true potential. He was truly an intelligent child, though his marks in school didn't show it. He couldn't score higher than Dudley, of course.

"_Another three years, then_."

"_Three?" _The snake glanced up at the child in bewilderment.

"_Yes, three years_," the child confirmed dryly. "_Can't you hear?"_

The serpent glared at him, once more offended. "_You look as though you are five! Are you not?"_

"_Of course not!" _It was Harry's turn to become offended. "_I'm going on eight next week!_"

He could understand where the snake was coming from. In all truth, he knew that he looked younger than his age. It was the Dursleys' fault that he was malnourished.

"_Okay_," the serpent said, trying to mask his surprise._"Am I correct in assuming you won't put those _three _years to waste?"_

"_Yeah, I'll control this magic before I have to go to that school, if that's what you're getting at."_

"_Oh?" _the snake challenged the child, amused at the thought of watching him grow stronger. It craned its neck to get a better view at Harry, and taunted him, "_Are you quite sure you can _manage?_ You're a bit... young."_

"_Of course," _Harry sneered, ignoring the snake's last comment. Age had nothing to do with it. "_The only question is: Where to start?"_

"_There is an ability that is rarer than even Parseltongue_," the serpent began, hoping to enthral the boy with the temptation. It theorized that he was prideful, and susceptible to the idea of being special. Unique. Powerful.

Curiosity sparked in the boy's eyes. The snake's theory proved correct.

"_What is it?" _

"_Wizards call a person who can use it a 'Shadow Mage'. It is not one particular ability, it is more like a field of abilities, involving the shadows. The most common of which is Shadow Walking. _

"_Shadow Walking is a quick means of transportation, similar to Apparation – a wizard's way of disappearing in thin air and reappearing elsewhere."_

The child watched as the snake now had its back turned to him. It was slithering away as it spoke.

"_I sense a human coming. Likely the loud one from earlier_," the snake couldn't help but say in disgust. "_Meet me in the back garden now, and try to use that Shadow Walking ability_."

Before Harry could get a word in, the snake had left. This annoyed the boy. The snake hadn't thought of what would happen if Harry wasn't a Shadow Mage and couldn't travel through the shadows.

_How careless! _Harry thought irritatedly, brushing his fringe out of his face. He then chided himself, _No, it's no__t__ the snake's problem if I have to face the wrath of my uncle. _The boy narrowed his eyes in realisation. _Sneaky._

Harry wondered how to do the Shadow Walking. He'd never done it before. Then he remembered the one time he had escaped from Dudley and his...gang...for lack of a better term.

Their favourite game happened to be "Harry Hunting", in which they chased him around the neighbourhood until they could catch him and beat him up. Since Harry was always outnumbered, he personally deemed his cousin a coward. Dudley just had to outnumber him all the time, although he likely could pound him without backup anyway. Perhaps he wanted witnesses for when he complained to "Mummy and Daddy" about how "the freak" did something bad to him.

Because of them, Harry appreciated the days he had to do indoor chores, where he wouldn't have to be chased by them. Although they could never catch him. He was far too fast for Dudley, and even if his friends could actually catch up, they would get it from Dudley for outrunning him. But Harry couldn't understand why anyone would be friends with that bully.

Well, anyway, he could recall the time he had escaped from Dudley and his gang. If he had to put it into words how he did it, he just couldn't. What Harry remembered was the desperation; his desperation to escape. And he had ran past one building to the next, the sun briefly covering his face between each one. His feet had felt heavier with each step, his overly large shoes had slapped the asphalt, and his heels had been slipping out of the back of the shoes. At some point he had felt as though he'd tripped, into the shadows, if you will. Harry had thought that he would have fallen flat on his face, and he had accepted the fact that he would get beaten up – which had happened before, when he'd been too tired to outrun them, or couldn't find a suitable tree to climb up. To his surprise, he had found himself in the shade of a chimney – he had been on the school roof.

The pounding steps, indicating that his uncle was approaching, broke Harry out of his thoughts. He had only seconds before his uncle would enter.

The boy was thoroughly displeased at the idea of getting beaten up again. So he walked the few steps to the dark wall, concentrating on his disgust of being humiliated that way again, being helpless like that again. He brought forth desperation, as he had before. In his mind, he superimposed the image of the back garden from his memories onto the shadow-enclosed cupboard wall.

As Harry had intended, he successfully stepped onto the grass of the garden. It was as though he was stepping through a door. For some strange reason, he had expected the experience to be more exhilarating than it was. But, similar to his first experience of Shadow Walking, he'd barely noticed that he was travelling as such. However, this time Harry had been more aware of what he was doing, so he could say that this time he felt slightly colder than before. Still, that wasn't much of a difference.

Upon entrance to the garden, he noticed the familiar-looking snake from his cupboard, lying on the grass, waiting expectantly. Harry walked over to it, grinning triumphantly, and the snake noted the gleam to his eyes. The dark emerald eyes pierced into its own, as if saying '_I told you so.'_

"'_A bit young',"_ the child quoted cheekily.

The snake snorted. Of course the boy would bring it up. Well, at least it knew that the child was determined. The serpent suspected that the boy would be very ambitious. '_A Slytherin q__uality_,' it mused. '_Yes, a good Slytherin he would be. This child would make his house proud.'_

When Harry was through with being smug, he took more notice of his surroundings. Harry could see the various rosebushes he had tended to, and flowers he had planted. And he could see the window, which now had light-coloured curtains draped over it, blocking the view to the garden. For this, Harry was grateful.

He walked farther into the back garden, to the more secluded part.

"_We haven't really had any introductions, have we?" _Harry noted, manoeuvring around the various plants.

"_No, we haven'__t." _The snake slithered behind him, surprising him with its stealth.

"_Yes, well, my name is Harry Potter," _the child said, slowing down to glance at the few withering plants he had not watered in a long time. "_And your name is?"_

"_Us snakes have no use for such thing__s," _the snake said with an air of superiority.

"_Leaving me nothing to call you," _Harry concluded, moving forward again.

"_Call me what you wish then," _the snake drawled. It then warned, "_Provided that it is a male name, seeing as I am a male, and not something ridiculous."_

It wasn't very far before Harry reached the little clearing, with the garden snake apparently trailing behind him silently.

Harry remembered gardening this portion of the garden several times before, although it was way towards the back, where no prying eyes could see. His aunt Petunia's priority was the front garden, which everyone could see, as opposed to the back garden. Although this very secluded section of the back garden couldn't be seen by the neighbours – nor anyone looking out number four's windows – Harry was forced to garden back there as well. It was one of those chores he had to do to keep him busy and "out of trouble".

Harry didn't think his uncle, or his aunt, had ever stepped there before. Dudley was even less likely to have been there; Harry doubted he had even been in the back garden at all! Because their "precious Duddikins" spent all of his time indoors, watching the telly, or playing video games.

The little clearing was darker than the rest of the back garden, because one of the larger plants towered over it, and a few rosebushes surrounded it. It was a perfect place for the two to sit without interruptions, Harry noted. He also noticed the shadows, which could be useful for some of the Shadow Magic the snake had been talking about.

"_How about Serpe? It's short for serpent," _the child said, taking a seat on the dry grass, his back against the side of the house, the large plant's leaves towering a few feet over his head. Harry's left arm lay lazily on his knees, in front of him, levelled just below his chin, while his right arm hung motionlessly on his side, touching the ground.

"_Very well," _the snake accepted in amusement, having decided the name wasn't too horrendous.

"_Ensuring your privacy?" _Serpe then queried from his spot a few inches to the right of Harry. He had noticed the boy's safety measures: bringing them very far from the house, and at a location so carefully concealed.

"O_f course," _Harry said, as if it were the most obvious thing to do, and grinned.

If the serpent had eyebrows, he would have raised one. "_You know that you are one strange child, correct?" _He was not only addressing the child's careful safety measures, but also his precociousness.

Harry chose not to reply, and simply rolled his eyes.

"_So it's true; I am a Shadow Mage," _Harry stated with pride in his voice. "_The Shadow Walking thing was pretty interesting, and I want to learn more of those Shadow Abilities. Is there a place I can go for this?"_

"_Yes, there is..."_ the serpent said. "_There is a book store in the wizarding shopping centre where you can read about it."_

Harry lifted his gaze from the grass, which was swerving in one direction due to the warm breeze, and met the snake's eyes in unmasked delight. "_When can we go?"_

"_Let's wait until next week," _Serpe suggested. "_Until then you can practice wandless magic_."

"_Hmm, next week, you say?" _Harry mused, carefully extending his right arm to pet the snake's torso. As his hand ran down the brown scales on the snake's back, he realized he was wrong. Contrary to his initial thoughts, it was not slimy; it was dry, smooth, and cool to the touch. "_We might as well go on my birthday, the 31st, so I can buy my own gift_."

_And it's not as though the Dursleys get me anything anyway, _Harry mentally added.

"_You look young for your age," _Serpe brought that up again. He knew fully well why he looked so small and scrawny.

"_My relatives," _Harry said, as though that was enough of an explanation.

"_I see,"_ the snake hissed, feeling the tension in the air. He noted that the child had stopped stroking him. "_Well, I assume you won't have to deal with those relatives of yours anymore. Not after you have learned magic."_

"_Not a chance." _The boy sounded as if this were the most absurd thing he'd ever heard. "_When I'm stronger, I'll make them hurt. I'll make them pay for what they did."_

"_Yes, yes," _Serpe said, brushing off the child's dark remarks. "_But it will take time for you to learn. Don't expect to up and be wonderful at magic. It is a complicated thing."_

"_Yes, yes," _Harry mimicked the snake, smirking. "_Whatever. When can I start?"_

"_You can start any time," _Serpe began, mentally rejecting the previous thought of the boy being mature. "_But, until you turn eleven, you'll have to do wandless magic._

"_I have heard it is more difficult to perform magic without a wand as opposed to with it. It supposedly takes a lot of magic out of you, and it's harder to control. So, this will take some hard work."_

"_Okay," _said the boy, mentally listing the things that he would like to do with magic. His mental list included learning to heal himself and trying to do more shadow magic. Especially learning to do spells to make his remaining three years at his relatives' home easier - including curses to get back at them.

It was then Harry heard the sound of a car coming up the driveway, engine roaring. He could hear the sound increase, then cease as it stopped in front of the garage. The boy assumed it was his aunt, coming back from wherever she had been. And he was proven correct as he heard some feminine-sounding laughs emitting from the area of the garage. It appeared that Harry's aunt was dropped off by her friends.

The child understood that he needed to prepare a special breakfast for his aunt, and had not much time. Outside he now heard his uncle, greeting his aunt and her friends.

"_Hold onto my arm," _Harry instructed the red-eyed snake, seemingly for no reason. Yet the snake obeyed, with only an inquisitive glance, while the boy explained briefly, "_I'll Shadow Walk to the kitchen_."

After the snake had curled itself around his arm, and he was sure it would not fall off, Harry abruptly stood up. And, true to his word, the boy was going to Shadow Walk.

He strode the few steps needed to reach the darker shadows, in a way which was unlike a seven-year-old. It was in one swift movement that the two plunged into the shadows and emerged into a neat-looking kitchen.

"_Put me down," _hissed the snake, unwrapping itself from the child's arm.

Harry raised an eyebrow, but moved his arm towards the kitchen counter. Serpe then gracefully slithered onto it, while the child briefly wondered about the snake's reaction.

"_How was my way of travel?" _Harry absently joked, hand resting on the top of a kitchen chair. He was staring at the bronze handle to one of the wooden cabinets.

"_Sickening," _Serpe summed it up in one word. "_Are you not feeling as I am?"_

"_Maybe it's a snake thing," _Harry shrugged, gaze still resting upon the handle. Not long after, it made a small jerking movement backwards.

The child had a faint smile on his lips. He concentrated harder on the handle. As though in response to this, the cabinet door swung open, loudly hitting the other cabinet.

Harry winced at the sound, but let a grin spread across his face. "_Magic is pretty cool_."

"_Child, you have much to learn," _the snake remarked after seeing the boy's first attempts at magic.

Harry felt that Serpe was challenging him again, albeit indirectly this time. He'd show him! So, with an air of confidence, he pointed his index finger in the direction of the wooden cabinet. Harry then whipped his finger towards the dinner table. It had the desired effect.

Three plates soared through the air and landed on the dining table, if a bit roughly. Admiring the surge of power he had felt, the boy imitated his earlier movement, and followed the three plates with three glasses, and silverware.

And thus, the table was set, leaving the food to be prepared. Harry doubted his uncle could stall his aunt much longer, so he had to prepare the food.

Knowing there was no time to actually cook food, he decided to magically prepare it. Harry Summoned Aunt Petunia's cookbook to him. He randomly opened the cookbook to one of the various dog-eared pages, and found out that those were his aunt's favourites.

It didn't take long for Harry to decide on what to prepare. So, the boy walked to the dinner table, cookbook in his left hand. He hovered his right hand over the table. Shutting his eyes, he pictured the meal on the plates.

All that accomplished was a small portion of food on each plate, not at all as appetizing as it should have looked.

As Harry caught sight of it, he grimaced. He had thought it would turn out fine! After all, he had superimposed the image of the food onto the plate, as he had done when Shadow Walking, and he had used his hand, as he had done when Summoning the plates, glasses, and silverware. So why didn't it work this time? And why did he suddenly feel a little tired?

Harry shook his head in frustration and was going to try again. This time, he heard the front door open, and the sound of his guardians' voices. So he was further motivated to succeed.

He repeated his earlier attempt, with more determination this time. And the small portion of food looked more appetizing, the rest of the meal added next to it.

At the sight of this, Harry sighed in relief. Yet, he now felt extremely tired, as though he had been running miles. It was sheer willpower that kept the boy on his feet.

He held onto the table for support as he pointed at the glasses and refilled them will refreshments. His knees almost buckled.

His guardians were walking towards the dining room. Harry could hear his whale of a cousin stomping down the stairs, under the impression that he was in the cupboard, with the intent of dropping plaster all over him.

The boy made some finishing touches. He tapped the dining table, exchanging the tablecloth for something more exquisite. And he flicked his finger in the direction of the cabinet, shutting the door which he had forgotten to close earlier.

"_Let's go_," Harry choked out, cautiously stepping towards the kitchen counter. He extended his arm again so that the amused-looking snake could come with him back to the cupboard. Harry grunted at the weight of the snake, especially since he was so exhausted.

His relatives arrived in the now-empty dining room, a delicious looking breakfast calling for them. Meanwhile, the two of them had arrived inside his cupboard, with Harry sprawled on the floor, unconscious.

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**A/N: 05.21.10:** I edited a few minor things to make it compatible with the next chapter, which is on its way.(:


	2. Anger and Pain

**Disclaimer:** (See chapter 1)

**A/N: ****Please read this if you have read chapter 1 before the 5.21.10 edit.** Last chapter, I described Serpe as a green garden snake with yellow eyes. I realized that I would need to change in order to make the info in both chapters compatible. So, several edits later, he was a brown Vipera Berus with red eyes. Got it? (;

Thank you, everyone who read the story, faved it, and best of all, thank you to all you story alerters and reviewers! The story stats blew me away. 5 reviews, over 400 views, 25 story alerts, and 9 favourites? You all made my day.

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Chapter 2

Anger and Pain

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It was long past sunset, and nearing sunrise even, yet the Speaker hadn't awoken. The child had been lying down in the tiny space of the Muggle home for such a long time.

Serpe could tell that the boy had potential. In only a few tries the boy had managed to do some high level magic. What the young wizard had accomplished yesterday really was something, no wonder he was out cold. He must be exhausted. What did they call it – a magical exhaustion? It was impressive indeed, especially since it was wandless magic. It couldn't have been accidental magic, because the child had clearly controlled it and knew exactly what he was intending. But, however much control the boy had, he would have to wait to get a wand before attempting something so draining. He couldn't be passing out all the time.

During the time Harry was unconscious, Serpe had gone hunting, and explored the passages through and under the house. He had yet to become used to the neighborhood, seeing as he had only been there for about a week.

He used to live with his mother, a magical Vipera Berus, and her bonded, who was a very powerful and influential Dark wizard and a Speaker. They all used to stay at several manors, which were huge in comparison to these Muggle suburbs. That was until six years ago, when his mother's bonded had lost his body. Since then, he had been possessing his mother from time to time, and they had all moved to Albania. Strangely, the week previous, Serpe had woken up to find himself in a garden outside a house – a Muggle one, at that.

His mother's bonded had always held contempt for Muggles, for some reason, and had slaughtered many. Serpe and his mother could care less about them, and had never bothered themselves with the matter. But, as a normal snake would react to someone disturbing them, Muggle or not, Serpe had been annoyed with the child's relative.

Serpe had been briefly considering biting that human. Just two bites would have done it. After all, the magic flowing through him added to the venom his species naturally had, and that caused it to become deadly.

The child wouldn't have minded. He might have thanked him, because in the cupboard wall, Serpe had seen him get slapped by the Muggle.

He knew there was an animosity between the child and his relatives. Harry obviously wanted revenge on his family, because of whom he was neglected and abused. Harry's guardians supposedly fed him – although probably not daily – dressed him – in clothes which were worn, torn, and too big for him – and gave him a place to stay – a tiny cupboard with a padlock on the outside. Not to mention the beatings he got from his uncle and cousin.

For the week he had been at Privet Drive, Serpe had seen on countless occasions the boy doing some backbreaking chores. He had always been gardening – weeding, tending to the rosebushes, planting new plants, and fixing the flowerbeds. And while he was working, the snake couldn't help but see his fat relative – maybe four years older than him – provoking him, taunting him, and beating him up.

Serpe resented how Harry was treated, especially because he was a wizard. Who did those Muggles think they were, to attack a wizard? But he knew without a doubt, that the child would get payback. And Serpe planned on being with the boy at least until then, seeing as he probably wouldn't be able to return to his mother.

Maybe Serpe would... well, if he was going to remain with him, he might as well... Serpe weighed the pros and cons of his idea before deciding.

* * *

Harry lay on his front, upper body on the mattress, lower body on the floor. His arms and legs were sprawled this way and that. At least that's how he found himself when he was conscious. He awoke with a cry of pain, luckily muffled by his bedsheets and mattress.

He had felt a sharp pain on his arm, which had begun to throb slightly. Harry groaned at the pain and moved his head to his side. The boy reluctantly cracked his eyes open, only to see a snake hovering over him. His eyes darted to his forearm, having to crane his neck a little bit to see the puncture wounds and slight swelling, undoubtedly caused by said snake.

"_What was that for?" _Harry hissed in annoyance, with a hoarse morning voice. Seemingly having an afterthought, he quickly added, "_Wait, aren't garden snakes _not _venomous?"_

"_Foolish child__!__ I am no garden snake!" _Serpe hissed in indignation, watching as Harry sat up. "_I am a magical breed of Vipera Berus, and bites from my kind are lethal!" _

Harry paled. The snake had actually bitten him, and if he wasn't kidding... But still, why would he do that? It wasn't like Harry had done anything offensive! No, it was very obviously not his fault. The snake must have deceived him yesterday. Deceived him into trusting him. Oh, yes. The snake had told him everything that had been withheld from him. Serpe had told him all about magic, and the whole other world he didn't know existed – the wizarding world. How could he have fallen for it...

Harry felt like an idiot.

"_You overreact, child_," the snake hissed. "_If you would bother to look down, you would notice that the wound has healed over."_

The snake's words proved true, but that still didn't void the venom in his bloodstream. Harry mentally cursed the serpent for his actions.

_I was not out to kill you. But your face was quite funny when I told you the power of my venom_, a familiar voice said in his head, making him jump.

_And, before you ask, the venom in your bloodstream will not kill you. I have chosen to bond with you, which is why we can communicate through the mind._

Harry was taken aback. The bite wouldn't kill him, and instead the snake had... bonded with him?

_So a bite from a _deadly _snake isn't supposed to kill me, and instead we get telepathy powers? Uh-huh, _Harry thought skeptically. _Telepathy is fake, and I should be dying right about now._

_My intent wasn't to kill you and my magic insured that, _Serpe thought to him, losing patience. _Instead of harming you, I formed a mental connection. Or have you forgotten that I am _magical_, and magic exists?_

_Oh_. Harry felt quite the idiot. Again. But he banished that from his mind in case the snake could hear it too._ Do you hear everything I think?_

"_Mostly when yo__u mean to communicate with me, or when you feel a strong emotion or thought," _Serpe hissed, switching back to Parseltongue.

"_Okay," _said Harry, taking note of that. "_And why would you bond with me anyway? We met just yesterday."_

"_True, but I plan__ on staying__with you. It is not every day a snake meets a Speaker." _Serpe mentally added, _But, for me, perhaps that is true._

"_I won't look crazy for talking to a snake_, _so I guess this works out nicely."_

"_Of course," _the snake hissed.

Harry was enjoying this new change, talking to the snake. Usually the summer was lonely for him, seeing as he had no friends from that wretched school, and he was only spoken to when being assigned work or being screamed at as an outlet for all of his uncle's anger. So he took advantage of the opportunity.

Harry then brought up the subject of the wizarding shopping center, and Serpe described to him the two alleys, the stores, and the sorts of products one may buy from there. It sounded overall interesting, but some of the products in one of the alleys - Knockturn Alley, was it? - sounded rather disgusting and frightening. The items included shrunken heads, human fingernails, human bones, and poisonous candles, among other things. According to Serpe, the alley specialized in Dark artifacts.

"_You must buy some robes when we reach Diagon Alley," _Serpe said, eying Harry's large shirt in disgust. "_Those rags are rather undignified."_

"_I wish I could, but my relatives are going to think it's kind of weird that I have new clothes all of a sudden, not to mention they're robes__!" _Harry began sensibly. "_Non-magical people don't really wear robes."_

"_Perhaps Muggles – non-magical people – don't wear robes, but wizards do," _Serpe hissed. "_You will stand out amongst the wizards if you wear those... clothes when you go shopping."_

Harry narrowed his eyes, but mentally agreed. Serpe, hearing the thought, had a smug look on his face, if a snake could have one.

"_I won't be able to pay for it though,"_Harry protested.

"_Of course you will be able to pay," _the snake hissed. "_You really think your parents would have left you with nothing?" _To that, Harry had no response. He didn't even notice that the snake had known that his parents had died, although Harry had never mentioned that.

The two resumed talking, at least until they heard the unmistakable sound of Harry's uncle making its way towards them. At that, Harry watched Serpe mysteriously disappear. _I am a magical snake, how many times must I remind you? _Serpe thought to him, in response to his puzzled look.

After fumbling with the lock on the door, Vernon banged the door open, glaring at Harry already. He was expecting his uncle to go off about how he couldn't have made the food that fast, and how he would not tolerate any freakishness. Hell, Harry expected to be yelled at for being lazy and completing no chores the previous day! Thus, what was said to him caught him by surprise.

"Boy, you get out and make breakfast now, you hear?" Vernon said gruffly.

"Yes, sir," Harry said automatically, beginning to stand up. Once the words left his mouth, his uncle turned to leave, the door wide open behind his retreating presence.

It didn't take long before Harry understood. _You _liked _the food!_ he thought haughtily, suppressing a smirk from appearing on his face, lest his uncle turn around.

_So it seems_, Serpe thought to Harry in amusement, suddenly by his side.

At that, Harry glanced down in surprise and hissed, "..._So you can turn invisible, huh?"_

"_It is excellent for catching prey_," Serpe commented.

* * *

After Harry had prepared breakfast the Muggle way and earned the usual piece of toast for breakfast, his uncle followed him to his cupboard, telling him that he was to be locked in for the day. Apparently he wanted the remainder of Petunia's weekend to be "Harry-free".

"_Do tell me, have you always been abused by these filth?" _Serpe questioned him when they were alone.

"_I was _defenceless_, which I won't be for much longer. He will pay," _Harry said ominously before switching the subject. "_Now, you tell me how you're getting to Diagon Alley. There's no way I'm carrying you; you're so heavy_," he teased Serpe.

Serpe accepted the change in subject, understanding that it was best to leave it alone. "_You must get stronger, then_," he hissed back playfully.

Much to Harry's surprise, Vernon returned again, Serpe making himself invisible. He told Harry that the family was going out, and he was to stay with their neighbor, Ms. Figg, as usual. His relatives didn't trust him to be left alone with their house, so whenever they went out, he was taken to Ms. Figg, which didn't bother him all that much.

_I have to go to my _neighbour's_ house_,Harry mentally explained to Serpe as he was getting up. _Get on my arm now._

_

* * *

_

Monday evening found Harry at the park. He'd left Privet Drive via Shadow Walking as soon as he had finished all his chores; he couldn't have Petunia assigning him the overbearing amount she usually did. Serpe in tow, he rocked slowly on the swing, as he had done for most of the hour he had been there.

Harry was remembering the day before, when he had to stay with Ms. Figg. He had always thought her to be nice, if not a bit crazy – really, who owned _that_ many cats? However, what Serpe had told him overruled his initial thoughts on the woman.

_Child, I sense the magic in this human_, Serpe told Harry, peering up at Ms. Figg. He was currently invisible, and wrapped around Harry's torso under his shirt.

_Oh? _Harry responded as he accepted the snack that Ms. Figg offered him.

_Yes. She doesn't have the magic levels you do – which are higher than usual as is – but she has less than the average wizard_, Serpe explained, taking an interest in the cats, which seemed to be aware of his presence, despite his invisibility. _I believe she is a Squib._

Harry projected his confusion to the snake, which proceeded to explain the blood statuses and his own blood standing.

_She always knew you were a wizard_.

Those words inspired a myriad of emotions in Harry: Surprise. Confusion. Understanding. Then rage. It became an effort to not narrow his eyes at the smiling woman before him.

Harry was still seething at the memory. Ms. Figg, the supposedly kind neighbor, had never bothered to tell him that he was a wizard. It was his birthright! _Not even when my dearest cousin chased me around the neighbourhood did she think of telling me_, he thought bitterly, Serpe overhearing this thought.

Not more than ten seconds had passed when said cousin biked into the park towards the swings, his cronies flanking him. Harry didn't try to suppress the groan that escaped his lips. _Speak of the devil, _Serpe thought to him, turning invisible.

_Stay away from me_, Harry warned his bonded. _Otherwise you'll be hurt. _He did not receive a response though.

"Potter!" his cousin cried in glee, circling the area of the swings. "We were looking for you!"

"_You've found me," _Harry said in Parseltongue, stopping his swing and eying them warily.

"Hiss hiss," Dudley mocked him, his friends laughing. "I only understand English, freak!" Stopping in the area in front of Harry, he put his foot on the ground to stop his bike, cronies mirroring him.

Harry blinked. He hadn't noticed he was speaking in Parseltongue! Well, he was lucky it was not in front of his uncle.

"Freak, you shouldn't be at _my_ park," Dudley sneered, with some truth to his statement. Harry was wondering why he had chosen to be at the park, which was common Dudley-territory. "Mum was telling me about how you sneaked off. She wanted me to bring you home."

"What do you lot say we... bring him home?" his cousin said, tone implying that they would do much more than that.

Dudley's question was met with several "Yeah"s and some smirks. They were all slowly advancing on him, where he still sat on the swing, in thought.

Harry knew exactly what they would do, and was mentally calculating if he had a chance to escape and possibly outrun all five of them unscathed. Well, he knew that he could outrun his cousin for sure, but that Piers Polkiss was not a bad runner. Not to mention the other three. But what were the chances of them all outrunning their leader? They wouldn't dare, would they?

He stood up before any of them got within arm's reach of him. Although he was still uncertain of what he would do, Harry backed up slowly. He now knew he was a wizard, and he had that handy way of traveling... But, no, he couldn't! There were so many reasons. For one, he thought the shadows from the swings were hardly enough to travel on. And Harry couldn't risk Dudley tattling to his uncle that he displayed some "freakishness" - that would cost him a beating. Blimey, he didn't know where his snake was either!

"Piers, get him!" Dudley ordered his fastest friend, who all too willingly followed the command. Harry was frustrated. He didn't know if he could outrun the other boy; they were the same speed. Yet he ran and ran, the two playing their game of "cat and mouse". Harry thought it would go on forever, until two others blocked his path. They ran him into a trap, securing each of his arms.

Dudley and a blonde-haired boy had stayed back, avoiding the chase, but now they were in front of him.

While Harry was struggling to free his arms, Dudley walked closer to him, and punched him in the gut.

Harry groaned and hung his head, still held up by Dudley's friends.

"What's this, Potty?" his cousin's voice rang in his ear. "Still not used it?" He got punched over and over on his abdomen. Somewhere along the way, Harry was dropped, and he found himself panting on his hands and knees.

"Potter, you're so weak!" the blonde-haired boy sneered, inspiring rage in him. Dudley didn't find it offensive that the other boy was speaking out of turn or he didn't think that the other boy had challenged his authority of the gang. He appeared to be the beta of the "pack". So Dudley, the alpha, let out an annoying laugh, signaling the rest of them that it was okay to laugh as well.

"Uh huh, _I'm _the weak one. Like you could do better if you were me!" Harry snarled, patience wearing thin. He would have contained himself, but his anger had been accumulating since thinking of Ms. Figg.

He started getting kicked in the sides, and when he tried to get up, they started pushing him around. Harry was thrust back and forth between the five boys, their raucous laughter ringing in his ears. He felt the world around him slow and he was shaking in anger. _Get away from me!_ Suddenly, all those surrounding him were blasted away, falling on their backs.

Harry was surprised, but didn't question the miracle. Instead he quickly called out to his bonded, _Serpe, come to me! _The snake let himself be seen and stealthily made his way to Harry.

_Excellent, child,_ he said simply.

Serpe safely wrapped around his aching torso, Harry ran from the park as fast as his legs would carry him. He dearly hoped that his cousin and the gang would stay down long enough for him to escape. He made it up the dirt path that led to the park and all the way to the trees near the surface street. The Dursley home was across that street in the midst of the all the other look-alike homes, which Harry was simply too tired to run to. Thus, using the large enough shade the tree provided, Harry Shadow Walked the pair of them to the cupboard again.

* * *

Serpe glanced down at the unconscious boy with a sense of déjà vu. Once the two had arrived at the cupboard, the child had been out cold, leaving Serpe to unravel from his chest and to manoeuvre out of his shirt. The boy had taken some harsh beatings, Serpe could tell from seeing all of the bruises from the day's attack. He was actually surprised there were not any more severe results, after watching that bout.

How he'd wished to interfere. Serpe had felt the anger and pain through their bond and had been quite overwhelmed by the boy's fierce emotions. He had been itching to go forward and bite the filthy Muggles. Two bites... but before he could attempt it, the child had performed that bit of accidental magic. It had been rather impressive, to thrust five people bigger than him away, and probably knock them unconscious.

Serpe protectively remained with his bonded for several hours, lest the Muggle filth from earlier return to seek vengeance. But instead of the child Muggle, the noisy Muggle burst through the door, apparently angry. It was too dark for Serpe to be seen by him, so he was paid no attention to.

"Boy, I was going to give you a little break for making Petunia's breakfast... acceptable," the child's relative bellowed, not even noticing the person he was speaking to was not conscious. "But now I hear you've been very freaky and and attacked my own son! I won't have it, you hear?"

At the child's lack of response, Serpe could see a blood vessel in the man's forehead, who began to rant some more. The Muggle finally figured out the boy was unconscious, left the room, and came back with a bucket of cold water, which he promptly poured all over the boy.

The snake was appalled by the man's methods. His bonded could catch a cold for being exposed to such cold water, not that his uncle seemed to care. Nevertheless, the child stirred. Serpe could tell that it certainly was not a great way to wake up; cold water poured over oneself while being glared daggers by a large man looming over one.

He watched as the large man roughly seized the child's wrist, dragged him out, then banged the door shut. Serpe couldn't miss the wide-eyed, scared expression on his bonded's face. Soon after, Serpe could hear a sliding noise, and then many shrieks, pleas, and yelling. With each shriek, Harry's scared face flashed in his mind, and his pained face from the day before. Being bonded to him, Serpe could feel the pain that he felt, though only to an extent.

After what seemed like forever, dozens of cries later, Harry collapsed on the bed, the door shutting quickly behind him. The child had tear-streaked cheeks and his long fringe stuck to his forehead with sweat. He was looking worse for wear. Red marks and newly formed bruises decorated the visible portions of his body. Serpe could only hope that the rest of him remained proper.

_Serpe? _Harry thought weakly to him.

_Yes, child? _Serpe replied, surprised that the child was still awake.

_Remind me to hurt my..._uncle.


	3. Happy Birthday

**Disclaimer:** (See chapter 1)

**A/N: **Took a long time to update, sorry about that. At least this is a long chapter, about twice as long as chapter two, hope that makes up for it. Oh yeah, and I got a beta reader, Csad21. :D Without her, there would be so many mistakes, trust me.

* * *

Chapter 3

Happy Birthday

* * *

"_I hope your fainting will not become a common occurrence_."

"_I don't really like _passing out,_ you know._"

Harry winced. He had been bending low to thoroughly water the lilies – before the sun hit them – but he was still aching from the nasty beating. After that beating, he hadn't expected to be let out to do gardening in the early morning, when the weather was still nice. Harry had expected tedious work in the hot sun without any breaks whatsoever.

_But then again, Aunt Petunia will probably make me do that anyway, _Harry thought blandly. _Especially after what I did to "ruthlessly hurt" their precious "Dudders"._

And as he had predicted, Aunt Petunia had overflowed him with various chores – mainly consisting of garden work, seeing as she didn't enjoy him being in the house. "Tarnishing my home," she had uttered, not expecting him to hear it.

As though the workload were not enough, Dudley and his gang had passed by the front lawn several times, jeering at him."That's what you get, freak!" his cousin had said in passing.

"_My mother's bonded also... disliked Muggles__,"_Serpe hissed to him later in the day, as he pruned the rose bushes.

"_Maybe it's just me, but that sounds like an understatement," _Harry noted, holding some pruners with his gloved hands, cutting off a piece of dead wood.

"_Yes, well, he murdered more than his share of Muggles," _Serpe informed him. "_But don't misunderstand, he had his reasons, and he was a good ma__n."_

"_Muggles... they've never been nice to me__."_He frowned, making another cut. "_My relatives, the kids at school – even the neighbours! I don't really blame him__."_

_

* * *

_

After several days of chores and beatings, it was Harry's birthday, the day on which he would be able to go shopping. Now he stood in the home of Arabella Figg, his neighbour, attempting to reach the shopping centre. He still remembered the discussion about it he'd had with the snake.

"_How do we get there?" _Harry had asked his snake. "_I can't Shadow Walk us there because I don't know what it looks like. Whenever I Shadow Walk, I kind of just picture the place."_

"_I believe we can Floo from the Squib's home," _Serpe had suggested.

"_Err... Floo?"_

"_Yes, it is a means of transportatio__n. You put powder in the fireplace, say where you wish to go, and arrive out of a fireplace at your destination__," _the snake had explained.

"_So, all I do is throw some of this," _he now said, raising the jar of silvery powder slightly, "_on – into the fire and say 'Diagon Alley'?"_

"_Ye__s," _Serpe responded, distracted by another thought.

Harry carefully unscrewed the lid of the small jar and took a pinch of silvery powder. He put the jar and its lid down on the mantle of the fireplace, unaware of the pair of eyes watching him.

The snake wrapped securely around his shoulders, Harry tossed the silver powder into the fireplace. He took a deep breath and shut his eyes before stepping in the fire, afraid of being burnt. "D-Dia-gon Alley," he said, coughing.

This way of travelling was nowhere nearly as pleasant as Shadow Walking, Harry noted, feeling queasy.

Harry felt as though he was being sucked down a giant drain. He heard the deafening roars in his ears. He felt himself spinning very fast, and something hard knocked his elbow. When he felt as though cold hands were slapping his face, he dared to open his eyes. Harry saw a blurred stream of fireplaces and snatched glimpses of the rooms beyond. He couldn't keep his eyes open for very long, though, because the whirl of green flames made him feel sick.

Suddenly, the feeling changed. Harry didn't feel like he was spinning any more, but he still felt a bit queasy. Harry didn't remember getting out of the fireplace, but who was to say that he wasn't still in it?

Not long after that thought, he seemed to be moving forward extremely fast.

"_Ow!_" he cried after being slammed face first onto the floor. Harry could have sworn that the fireplace spit him out. In the magical world, anything was possible - right?

"_This is as unpleasant as your Shadow Walk," _the snake commented, still wrapped very tightly around his shoulders.

"_Shadow Walking isn't like this at all!" _Harry hissed in disbelief, oblivious to the people looking down at him in shock.

_Child, this isn't exactly a good time to speak to me, _Serpe told him. _Open your eyes._

As Harry did so, he saw a rather dirty looking wooden floor beneath him. Disgusted, he stood up. Harry saw all the soot on him and the floor around him. It appeared that the fireplace _did _spit him out... or something like that.

Wiping off the soot from his clothes, his hair, and his snake, he looked up at his surroundings.

Harry saw that he was in a dimly lit place, and there were plenty of people sitting around, either smoking or drinking. He couldn't help but notice that it was very quiet and all eyes were on him.

Then Harry realised that he'd probably spoken in parseltongue. _I really need to stop doing that. _Harry remembered the time he had spoken to his cousin in parseltongue before as well. _They probably think I'm crazy or something, for talking to a snake._

_No, they probably think you are a Dark wizard. Many wizards believe that the ability to speak our language is the mark of a Dark wizard._

_Excellent, _Harry thought sarcastically.

"Where am I, anyway?" Harry voiced the question to no one in particular. The place was dark and much too shabby to be in Diagon Alley, in Harry's opinion.

"The Leaky Cauldron," a bald man said to him from behind a counter, eyeing his snake.

"But, sir, I was trying to get to Diagon Alley."

"Maybe you pronounced it wrong, or choked on the soot. There are a lot of things that could have gone wrong," the man explained, still watching the snake. "So this is your first time Flooing, is it?"

"Yes, sir." Harry was uncomfortable with the way the man was looking at Serpe and him.

By now, there was a low buzz of chatter and most people had stopped staring.

"Well, you're lucky to end up here, aren't you? I mean, you could've ended up anywhere!"

"Yes, sir," Harry said again. "Sir, do you mind telling me how to get to Diagon Alley?"

"Sure," the man said slowly. "But, kid, where are your parents?"

"They're waiting for me in the alley."

The bald man didn't seem to believe him. "Why didn't you just go with them?"

"Er, I don't live with my parents, sir." Harry was getting annoyed with all the questions. He had thought that his excuse was good enough when he'd made it! "They're visiting London, and I'm meant to meet them in the alley."

"What about the adults you live with?" The man stubbornly continued questioning him. "Surely they wouldn't let you go to London by yourself!"

"Sir-"

"And to think they'd let you keep a snake like that! It could be dangerous!" the man exclaimed. "Aren't you scared, kid?"

"_Sir,"_ Harry stressed, "my parents are waiting for me. Can you please tell me how to get to Diagon Alley?"

"You're too young to be wandering around by yourself..."

_Serpe, do you know how to get to Diagon Alley? _Harry asked his bonded, deciding to not rely on the man before him.

_By Floo only, but since you couldn't do that-_

Harry interrupted the snake. _Serpe! Come on,_ _this man is so stubborn!_

_Well, there are some ways to influence the mind. However, I believe they are too advanced for you to use. After all, you've only just begun using magic. _

_That's not very helpful, _Harry told the snake.

_Well, I suppose you could _try._ Look into his eyes and tell him what to do. Try and channel your magic._ the snake instructed. _But I don't think it will work; you are too inexperienced._

"Sir," Harry paused, searching for words as he looked into the man's eyes_. _"my parents really _are _waiting for me in the alley." He tried to speak with conviction. "They told me exactly where they'll be waiting for me, but they didn't tell me what to do in case the Floo didn't can you please tell me how to get to Diagon Alley, sir?" _Tell me. Tell me where it is._

"Oh alright," the man relented, making Harry almost sigh in relief. "Step outside and you'll see some trash cans...you need to tap a brick on the wall, above them. On the can to your very left, the third up, second acro-"

The man stopped speaking abruptly. His eyes widened a fraction because, apparently, he hadn't meant to say that.

"Thank you, sir." Harry smirked once his back was turned and walked towards the exit. _So it worked, huh, Serpe?_

_I have to admit that I am surprised. _

"Wait!" The bald man walked around the counter, following him outside.

Harry walked closer to the trash cans before pulling to a stop. "Third up... second across," he muttered, his hand trailing over the bricks.

"It's dangerous!" the man's voice was panicked. "You can only tap the brick with your wand! If you use your hand-"

A large archway of bricks formed, interrupting the adult. Harry walked through the archway, smirking. He looked over his shoulder and saw the man's surprised expression just before the archway shrunk back into solid wall.

_So this is Diagon Alley, _Harry thought, walking down the cobbled street that twisted and turned out of sight. _It looks busy today._

The first thing that caught his eye was the cauldrons shop, mostly because the sun shone brightly on it. Maybe it was the big sign hanging over it. Harry squinted, but he could only read the larger letters, Cauldrons – All Sizes. Cauldrons... in a Halloween film Dudley had watched, it had said that those were used for making potions... So it was real.

Harry was getting amazed by every shop he passed, not really knowing where he wanted to go. He passed a shop that said Apothecary in big letters, big enough that even he could read it. Harry made his way past an owl shop, shops for robes, and shops for telescopes.

Harry saw several boys who were bigger than him crowded around one shop. It was then that he stopped and curiously stepped closer. There was a broom behind the glass, being showcased. _Witches _do _fly on brooms..._

Magic was real. Only then did that really sink in for Harry.

Well, Harry had known that something was different about him. Peculiar things had always happened to him: Randomly appearing on the school roof. His glasses repairing themselves. All of his hair miraculously growing back overnight. After the snake had told Harry that he was a wizard, he'd accepted it because of those peculiar things. But, now, being in such a magical place... it was overwhelming.

_So _this _is Diagon Alley, _Harry remarked, looking all around again before finally looking at his snake. Well, he thought he would be looking at his snake, but all he saw was his shoulders. _Serpe-_

_I am still here. I turned invisible so as not to draw attention to you. You do remember what happened when we were in that place, the Leaky Cauldron, was it? _Harry nodded. _How could you forget I am here? I thought that I was "so heavy"._

Harry laughed. _This place, it's... amazing. Surprising. I was kind of out of it, you know. It's– magic is _real.

_If you go to the bank, you'd be able to buy some of the things in those shops you've been gawking at for the past few minutes, _Serpe reminded him.

_Sure, where is it? _

_I don't know._

Harry felt a tapping on his left shoulder and he turned around. A nervous couple was looking down at him. It looked like the woman next to him had tapped him. "Excuse me, are you alright there?"

"Er, yes, ma'am...I am, thanks." Harry looked up at them and tilted his head to side a bit. Why wouldn't he be?

"Are you lost? Did you get separated from your parents?" the man asked him.

"No, sir," Harry said, trying to form a lie. Then he had a great idea. "Actually, I suppose I am kind of lost. I'm supposed to meet my parents inside the bank... Can you point me in that direction?"

"Sure," the woman said. "Do you see that white building? The very tall one?" Harry nodded, seeing the top of the building over all the other shops. "That's Gringotts, the bank."

"It's a bit far. We can walk you over there, if you want," the man offered.

"No, thank you," Harry politely declined. "It's okay; I know where it is now. I'll be fine."

"Are you sure?" the woman asked in a concerned tone.

"Yes, ma'am. Thanks for your help," Harry said, smiling. "Bye."

"It's our pleasure." The couple returned the smile.

As Harry left, he could still feel them watching him. _They must really have been worr__ied, _Harry thought, walking down the street. _Muggles probably wouldn't have helped me._

_I suppose you're lucky that they came along, hm?_

_Yeah, _Harry responded, looking into the window of the shop nearest to him. Apparently, it sold books, rolls of paper and... was that a feather? Harry had always thought that those were used only in the olden times. After all, in the Muggle world, they usually used biros.

Harry walked fast as he passed another store, wrinkling his nose. This store's windows were stacked with barrels of bat spleens and eels' eyes. _What kind of store is that? _he thought, disgusted.

Eventually, he reached Gringotts. It was unmistakeable with its snowy white colour and the fact that it towered over the other little shops.

Harry walked up the white stone steps to the bronze doors and saw something standing next to him. The top of its head reached Harry's earlobe and it was wearing some sort of uniform with scarlet and gold. It had a pointed beard and long fingers and feet. When the thing saw him, it bowed. Harry, unsure of what to do, bowed back. It looked a bit surprised, but gave him a sort of smile.

Harry opened the doors and stepped inside. Now he was facing another pair of doors, silver this time, with words engraved on them. Harry stepped closer to read it:

_Enter, stranger, but take heed_

_Of what awaits the sin of greed, _

_For those who take, but do not earn_

_Must pay most dearly in their turn._

_So if you seek beneath our floors_

_A treasure that was never yours,_

_Thief, you have been warned, beware_

_Of finding more than treasure there._

Harry understood the riddle, which was mostly warning the thieves not to steal. What puzzled him was what it meant about finding more than treasure... He shrugged it off, because it didn't really matter to him; he wouldn't steal from a bank anyway.

The boy noticed that there were two of the things this time, and they both bowed to him, as the first one did outside. Harry bowed back to each of them, garnering him something close to a smile, again, and he walked through the silver doors.

Harry saw that he was in a huge marble hall. Around a hundred of those things he'd seen outside were here, sitting on high stools behind a long counter. They all looked to be very busy. Some were were weighing coins, and examining stones through eyeglasses. There were a lot of doors leading off the hall, and still more of those things were attending customers.

_Serpe, what are those things? _Harry finally asked.

_What things?_

_The ones that we met outside. You know, the ones that bowed to me? _

_Those aren't "things". They are called goblins, and they run the bank, _the snake explained to him.

_Goblins! _Harry thought, still amazed that everything was real. He was in the _wizarding_ world, he'd just passed a _cauldron _shop and a _broom_ shop, and now he was in a bank run by _goblins_.

_Child, don't stand there all day._

Harry rolled his eyes, and went up to the counter. It was taller than it looked from far away. Even when Harry tiptoed, he could just barely see over the counter. "Excuse me?"

The goblin in front of him leaned forward and looked down at him through its glasses. "Yes?"

"I want to get some money out of my account." _Tell him your name, _Serpe prompted him. "And I'm Harry Potter."

"Do you have your key?"

"Er... no I don't." How would he get his money now?

"Put your hand on the counter, please." Harry did as he was told, but with his arm extended over the counter, he couldn't see-

"Ow," he muttered from a sudden prick of pain. Harry tried to take his hand back, but the goblin kept his hand still, saying, "Wait."

When the goblin allowed him to, Harry took his hand back. He raised his eyebrows when he saw some blood on his finger. Harry tiptoed again to see what the goblin was doing. Apparently it was putting his blood in a silver bowl.

"It seems that you are Harry Potter," the goblin finally said to him after looking at the bowl for a while, though Harry could tell no difference in its appearance. "You will be needing this key to access the Potter vaults." An arm reached over the counter, key in its hand. Harry accepted the key with a "Thanks".

"Griphook!" Another goblin appeared. "Take Mr. Potter to his family vaults."

Harry was led through one of the many doors branching out from the bank's foyer. There was a big change of scenery. One moment they were in a huge marble hall, the next they were in a narrow stone passageway. It was lit with flaming torches and it sloped steeply downward.

_Serpe, are you still there? _

_Really, child, wouldn't you have felt me leaving if I did?_

_I'm just checking, _Harry told the snake, watching as a small cart came towards them, hurtling up some railway tracks. Once they both climbed in, the cart sped off.

They went through what felt like a maze of passages and they seemed to being going deeper and deeper underground. The speed was so fast Harry's eyes stung. He clasped the sides of the cart with his hands, even though he knew there had to be magical protection around the cart to keep him from falling out of his seat.

"Griphook," Harry began, trying to speak over the noise of the cart and distract himself from the uncomfortable ride. "Can you tell me about this bank?"

The goblin who was sitting across from him paused to consider it, then nodded and said loudly, "For a small price."

"How much?"

"It depends on what you want to know."

"Well... can you tell me what the bank can do for me?" Harry asked loudly. "Besides keep my money, I mean."

"Gringotts will convert wizard money to Muggle money and vice versa. We are willing to store valuable possessions for our clients and we have the topmost security in Britain. We offer tests such as genealogy tests, born abilities tests, etc. We deal with legal matters, and when you come of age, you will come to us to take your rightful spot on the Wizengamot."

"What does genealogy mean?"

"Lineage. When you take the test, it will show you your family tree dating back centuries," the goblin told him just as the rattling cart screeched to a stop in front of a small door in the passage wall.

"When can I take it?" Harry asked, carefully getting out of the cart.

"I will arrange a day for you to take this test." Griphook unlocked the door, and green smoke billowed out of it. "Remind me of this after you finish your withdrawal." He handed Harry a bag and stood at the door.

When the smoke cleared, the only thing Harry could think was, _Is this really my vault?_

_Obviously, _the snake quipped, irritating him a little.

"How much is this in Muggle money?" Harry asked the goblin standing outside, looking over his shoulder. He didn't need to know that to tell he had more money than the Dursleys ever would have, though.

"The gold ones are called Galleons, and they are each about five pounds. Silver ones are Sickles and bronze ones are Knuts. Seventeen Sickles to a Galleon. Twenty-nine Knuts to a Sickle."

Harry faced forward again and looked at his wealth. He had mounds of gold coins. Columns of silver. Heaps of little bronze coins. Harry was shocked by the sheer amount of coins, let alone the value.

"_You really think your parents would have left you with nothing?" _the snake had asked Harry a week ago. Then, he had thought nothing of it, but now...

_Serpe, how did you know that my parents aren't alive? And that I'm rich? _Harry asked, scooping tens of Galleons into his bag. After all, he didn't know how much everything would cost.

_Child, your name is very well-known amongst the wizarding world. The death of your parents was highly publicised. Your family is known to be wealthy._

_Now I really want to take that genieololgy test, if that was the name,_ Harry told the snake, putting some Sickles and a few Knuts in the bag.

"One Galleon," Griphook said when Harry exited the vault.

"What?"

"For the information."

"Oh." Harry gave him the money.

"Can we go any slower?" Harry asked the goblin when they were back in the cart.

"One speed only," Griphook said, and they sped off again.

After another uncomfortably fast ride, Harry and the goblin climbed up the stone pathway again. They went back to the bank's foyer, where Griphook walked him to a nearby bank teller. The two spoke in another language before Griphook turned to Harry.

"Your genealogy test will take place exactly two weeks from now, Sunday August 14. Come at noon," Griphook told Harry. "It will cost ten Galleons."

"Okay," Harry said, wondering how he'd go to Diagon Alley again without getting in too much trouble from his uncle. He didn't even know how mad his uncle would be today, when he returned. "Just take the money from my vault."

"Very well." And with that, Harry left Gringotts.

As Harry walked down Diagon Alley, he still couldn't believe how much money he'd seen in his vault. It was just unthinkable that he'd had all that money somewhere underground London!

_Where will you go first?_

_Er... a robe shop, I guess, _Harry thought. _So that I don't stick out any longer. _And that he did. With his small frame, wearing oversized Muggle clothing and walking alone, Harry certainly stuck out.

Harry retraced his steps from earlier. He passed the bat spleen shop, the shop that sold stationary, the broom shop, and he finally reached the robe shop. "Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions" the big sign over the shop's entrance read.

When Harry walked in the shop, a woman dressed all in mauve, Madam Malkin, maybe, looked over her shoulder and said to him, "Just a second, dear, I'm almost done with this one." A boy was standing on the stool in front of her and she was measuring him for his robes. "You can sit right over there." She tilted her head towards another stool.

"Okay," Harry said, sitting down and looking around the shop in the meantime. There were a few people being fitted at a time and it was rather quick. The store seemed to be pretty efficient.

"Alright, I'm ready for you," Madam Malkin said, walking up to him with a black robe in her hands. "I'll need you to stand still there."

As Harry got up and stood on the stool, he could feel the snake quickly slide off his shoulders, down his torso and legs, and probably onto the floor. The snake was just in time, because then the woman slipped the long robe over his head and began to pin it to the right length.

"Where are your parents, might I ask?" she asked him.

"They're waiting for me in the shop next door," Harry lied, trying to remember the name of the shop. "Flourish and Blotts. They told me to buy a robe here first, then I'm meant to meet up with them there."

"Oh, okay, it's good that they're nearby," she responded. "I knew that you looked to be too young to be out and about in a busy alley like this."

"Hm, yeah, it is busy today," Harry said, wondering how long he would have to use his "parents" excuse.

"Everyone's shopping for Hogwarts supplies," Madam Malkin told him. "Term starts on the first of September, you know."

"Oh."

"This is probably one of the busiest times of the year for me, this is. I've got Hogwarts students piling in for new robes," she said. "I know I'm not the only one who's a bit busy these days, though. It's happening to every shop owner, you know. Well, at least there's more than one robe maker, so I won't be too busy."

"I just might be fitting you for robes again in the next few years," Madam Malkin said. "You'll be going to Hogwarts in maybe five years, right?"

"Three," Harry corrected her. That was the same thing Serpe had thought at first sight, he remembered in annoyance.

The witch raised her eyebrows. "You're eight? But you're so small!" she exclaimed.

"Well, I turned eight today, actually."

"Happy birthday, then," the witch said with a smile.

"Thanks!" Harry said, smiling back. It was the first time anyone had ever wished him a happy birthday.

"That's you done, my dear," Madam Malkin said, the finished robe in her hands.

Harry hopped down from the footstool. He paid for the robe, then asked, "Is there anywhere I can change into this...?"

"The toilet's right over there," the witch told him, gesturing to it.

Harry went inside and put his robes over Dudley's old clothes, glad to finally have something to wear that didn't belong to his cousin. Not only were the robes new, but they were made just for him. They were very flowy and didn't constrict his movements in the least. The robes were rather good looking, if not a bit old-fashioned, in Harry's opinion.

"_Serpe, are you in here?" _he hissed.

"_Yes," _the snake responded, turning visible.

"_Good," _Harry said, bending down to pick him up. "_Get on my shoulders and be invisible. I'm leaving this shop."_

On his way out, Harry thanked Madam Malkin. Next stop: Flourish and Blotts.

The book store was fairly large, bigger than Madam Malkin's. What caught Harry's eye when he walked in was not only the shelves stacked to the ceiling with books, but one particular section of the store.

_They sell books about me? _Harry asked the snake, drawing closer to the Harry Potter section.

_I did say your name was well known amongst the wizarding world, _Serpe reminded him.

_You didn't say I was this famous! _

Harry picked out a random book from the shelf and began leafing through it. "'Only as a one year old, the great Harry Potter fought against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. It was a close fight, and You-Know-Who attacked young Harry with the Killing Curse! That didn't stop Harry, actually, it only gave him a scar! He used his most powerful spell to vanquish You-Know-Who!" Harry scoffed.

"You alright there?" a young shop assistant asked him.

"Yeah," Harry responded, chuckling at the text.

"Interested in Harry Potter?" he asked Harry.

"Kind of."

"You know that most of those books are rubbish, yeah?"

"I can tell," Harry said, still laughing.

"Oh, and, if you're going to buy anything from over there," the assistant gestured towards one section of the shop, "it's all 20% off." Then the shop assistant left.

"I knew my parents didn't die in a car crash," Harry muttered. "Another lie..."

_So this He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named person came in my house, killed my parents, tried to kill me, but I killed him instead? _Harry asked Serpe, trying to separate the truth from the tall tales.

_Yes. You were the only one to survive the killing curse, so they dubbed you the "Boy-Who-Lived". _

_And all of this happened when I was _one? Harry asked the snake, looking through another book. _I don't remember any of that._

_That doesn't change the fact that you're famous. What do you know about "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named"?_

_Well, this book says that he was a mass murderer. Killed off loads of Muggles and Mudbloods. Everyone was scared of him, _Harry told Serpe, flipping a page in a book.

_Precisely. People were even scared to leave their houses. They were scared to say his name, Voldemort, even now. That is why you are so famous._

Harry put the book back and picked up another. _But I didn't _do_ anything. I didn't hit him with some curse, or fight him to the death. _

The boy leafed through the pages of this new book. "'Harry Potter was the only one in history to ever survive the Killing Curse. "The Boy-Who-Lived" now has a lightning bolt scar on his forehead.'"

Harry slipped his fingers under his fringe to touch his scar.

He'd always liked his scar, even though his aunt never had. She had cut off nearly all of his hair the other day, again, apart from his fringe, which she'd left "to hide that horrible scar". Now, Harry was actually grateful for his aunt's actions. If his scar had been showing throughout his entire Diagon Alley trip, and the snake was right about Harry being so famous, he would have been mobbed or something.

The day after Aunt Petunia had cut his hair, as per usual, it grew back, leaving his aunt in a fit. His uncle had sent him to his cupboard, which was where he was meant to be now.

The Boy-Who-Lived put the book back with a sigh and moved onto a different section. Which section, he didn't know.

Harry glanced at the titles, and eventually picked one up called _Guarding Your Mind: A Beginner's Guide to Occlumency. _Harry didn't know that people could read each other's mind in the wizarding world. He decided to keep that book. He found another book by the same author called _Invading Another's Mind: A Beginner's Guide to Legilimency _and decided to buy that as well.

_Good choices. And those don't require a wand either, so you can use it in public, _Serpe told him.

On the same shelf, Harry found a book on Shadow Walking and another on Parseltongue, which he carried as well.

"Excuse me," Harry called the shop assistant. "Do you have any books on healing?"

The young shop assistant looked at the books he had with interest. "Yes, they're right over here." The assistant led him towards yet another book shelf. "This one right here is a good book to begin with healing. It has all the basic spells and is pretty easy to understand." He handed Harry the book.

By now Harry was carrying five books and the assistant could tell he was struggling. "I'll hold some of those for you," he said, holding three. "D'you think you're ready to purchase these?"

Harry was about to say "Yes" when he saw a book on display. "Hold on." He came back with the book and said, "Now I am."

They put the books down on a counter and Harry saw the shop assistant look strangely at the book he'd just grabbed. It was called _Curses and Countercurses (Betwitch Your Friends and Befuddle Your Enemies with the Latest Revenges: Hair Loss, Jelly-Legs, Tongue-Tying and Much, Much More)_ by Professor Vindictus Viridan.

Nevertheless, he sold the book to Harry, asking, "Why would you need that kind of book?"

Harry didn't reply. The assistant didn't persist, and he just continued packaging the books.

"That looks heavy," Harry said after seeing the finished product.

The shop assistant shrunk it for him. "How about now?"

"Thanks." The boy took the package and made a move to leave.

"Wait, boy." Harry flinched. "I've been meaning to ask you: Where are your parents?"

"They're waiting for me at another store," the boy said. He grabbed the shrunken package and left.

Harry put the package in the pocket of his robes as he walked. Now the last place he had to get to was the wand shop in Knockturn Alley. He'd asked the goblin about it earlier, on the cart ride back to the back.

"The only wand store that would sell to you is in Knockturn Alley. Galvin's Wands, it's called, although there isn't a sign on the outside," the goblin told him. "You only find that store if you look for it."

"Er, what am I looking for?"

"It looks run-down from the outside. There's an illusion of being boarded up, but you can walk through it."

"But how do I get to Knockturn Alley?"

"You should be able to find it. It's connected to Diagon Alley," the goblin told him. "Three Galleons."

Harry handed him the money again.

Harry walked down the alley and passed many shops, looking for the entrance to Knockturn Alley. There were a couple spaces between shops that, from afar, looked like they could lead to Knockturn. He took a closer look, but those pathways led to either a back door or a dead end.

"Are you alright there?" a woman asked him, apparently having seen him walking up and down the alley a few times.

"Yes, ma'am," Harry said, looking up at the woman.

"Are you lost?"

"Er..." The boy tried to think of some way to use his "parents" excuse now. "Yes."

"Do you need me to help you find your parents?" She looked worried.

"No, ma'am," he said. "My parents were just with me in Flourish and Blotts, but they told me they had to go do something in Knockturn Alley," he explained, wondering if he sounded believable. "I'm meant to meet up with them, but since this is my first time in Diagon Alley, I don't know how to get there."

_Using your "parents" excuse _again_, child? _

"Oh, that's why you were walking up and down the alley!" the woman exclaimed. "I knew you looked lost, dear. Though it's beyond me why your parents would leave you in Diagon Alley all by yourself and then expect you to find your way to Knockturn Alley!" She frowned.

"I'll show you the way, dear, but do stay close to me. That place is rather frightening, even for me," she said, walking in the direction of Gringotts.

"Yes, ma'am."

_Well, it works, _Harry told the snake.

The two walked past several stores and they reached Gringotts. On the left of the white building was the continuation of the long, twisting alley, which was where Harry expected to be led through. However, the woman turned to the right of Gringotts, where there was a pathway. Harry followed her through it, and it wasn't long before they emerged into an alley looking a bit similar to Diagon Alley, but he soon realised that they were not too similar.

The items sold there were extremely different, for one. An aged witch walked by him, holding a tray of what looked like whole human fingernails. Displayed in the window of the shop she'd just walked past were some candles ("Poisonous candles, now 50% off!" a sign read in large letters).

Also, this alley was certainly less busy than Diagon. The people who were there were quiet, and they had a startling presence. Harry felt some people looking at them, and it crept him out.

Harry saw the woman cast a spell that showed the time in mid-air. "Oh, she must be done getting her robes by now..." he heard her mutter.

"I have to go, but I don't want to leave you here all alone..." She paused. "Where did you say your parents were, dear?"

"I think they were in that store," Harry said, nodding towards the largest shop in the alley. It looked big enough for her to not notice his "parents'" absence.

"Come quickly, now," the woman said, walking towards the shop, Harry close at her side.

Harry saw some people speaking in hushed tones next to a shop that sold gigantic black spiders. They stopped speaking as he walked by and he could feel their eyes on him even after he'd passed them.

The woman opened the door to the large shop (Borgin and Burke's, according to the sign), waving Harry in before she entered herself. She held his arm, took him straight to the man behind the counter and said, "This boy says that his parents are waiting for him here. I have to go, but can you please see to it that he gets to his parents? They must be worried sick."

The man behind the counter mutely nodded, eyeing Harry.

"Goodbye," the woman said to Harry, looking around the shop for any sight of his parents, though it was too large for her to tell if they were there or not.

"Bye."

A few moments after the woman had left, the man said, "We both know your parents aren't here."

"I just needed directions to the alley. I had to tell her that my parents were in here."

The man behind him appeared to be disinterested, and he walked around the counter to attend to a customer who was deeper in the shop.

When Harry saw that the woman was completely gone from the alley, he left Borgin and Burkes, in search of the wand shop the goblin had described. It wasn't very long before he came across it.

_It looks run-down from the outside_. Harry saw the dirty bricks on the outside, and the dust and grime covering the shaded windows. _There's an illusion of being boarded up... _He saw the wood nailed in rows, and then sloppy X's on top. .._.but you can walk through it. _Harry first put a foot in the door, surprised that it was not solid, then the rest of his body followed suit.

The shop was rather small andvery empty. There was a counter near the back wall with a stool behind it, and a back door was cracked open.

Harry was surprised that the shop was so tidy. _It was just an illusion_, he reminded himself.

"A customer, hm?" he heard a man's voice say from the back room. The man walked through the door, slightly hunch-backed. He was clad in all black and had short grey hair.

"Yeah. Are you Galvin?"

"Yes." The man's blue eyes watched him.

"I heard you're the only one who will sell me a wand."

"Ah, yes. Come through here, now." Galvin returned to the back room, waving Harry in.

Harry followed the man into the back room, which, surprisingly, was much larger than the main shop. In the centre of the room sat two long tables, next to each other. On top of one table was what looked like bits of wood and on top of the other were various items Harry couldn't distinguish.

"Walk next to those two tables and hold your hand over them. Make a sort of scooping motion a couple of inches above the items. The parts of the wand that you attract will jump into your hand."

The boy did as he was told and Galvin followed him to observe.

"Ah, your core is boomslang venom?" Harry heard the man say when a bit of crystal jumped onto his palm. "That's rare, that one is."

Harry walked towards the second table and it wasn't long until a small bit of wood jumped onto his palm, next to the boomslang venom. "Ash wood, as well. Interesting combination."

"Give it here, then." Harry gave Galvin the parts of his wand, somewhat curious as to how he would create it. Instead of making the wand right then, he went back to the main room and put them on the counter.

"40 Galleons, that will be."

"What?" Harry exclaimed. "That's £200! That's too much for just one wand!"

"Just one wand?" the man repeated. "This is a _custom_ wand, kid! I create this without laying on any trackers, unlike the 'ministry-approved' shops! You can use magic whenever you want without the Ministry finding out."

"That's great and all, but it's still a lot of money," Harry persisted. He knew he was wealthy, but all the years of not having any money of his own made him want to save the money he now had. "25 Galleons."

"Far too little." Galvin shook his head. "Especially because your core is boomslang venom! That venom is hard to come by, mind you. Very dangerous to work with as well!

"35 galleons," the man said. "And no less than that."

"I don't need to pay for all of it _now_, do I? I didn't get my wand yet."

"Actually, you do need to pay now. As I said, the venom is hard to come by. It's expensive."

"How about I pay for some of it now, some of it later?"

"Give me 20 Galleons now, then," the man said, hand outstretched, and Harry paid him.

"How long will it take you?"

"Three weeks. It should be done by August 21," Galvin told him. "Come back then, and don't be late."

"Okay," Harry said, a little surprised that it would take so long.

Once Harry left the store, he began to feel a little frightened. He walked a little faster. The people around him spoke so quietly and looked so suspicious. He could feel their eyes on him and he felt uncomfortable. Harry walked even faster.

"Ah!" He bumped into someone. Harry thought he was going to fall until he felt a strong arm clasp his shoulder and steady him.

Harry looked up to see a tall man with long, platinum blond hair looking down at him. "Sorry, sir."

"It's quite alright," the man drawled, his grey eyes calculating. The look Harry was getting was unsettling.

Harry's hand shot to his forehead, and this time his hair wasn't covering his scar. He widened his eyes and used his fingers to comb his hair over his forehead again. After a quick glance at the blond man, he scurried away.


End file.
